


There's Room for Us in Heaven

by sequence_fairy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 17:25:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16100321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: Allura wishes she could have been brave enough to do this without the collapsing star for mood lighting, but she thinks he’s never looked more brave than he does now.





	There's Room for Us in Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> For [@hchano](http://hchano.tumblr.com) in honour of her bestowing us with this [blessed image.](http://hchano.tumblr.com/post/178425293631/babe-kiss-me-like-its-the-last-time-i-believe).

“Lance,” she says, bringing her hands to his shoulders. The flashover of an exploding Galra cruiser throws his face into sharp shadows. Behind the cruiser, a planet dies, ripped apart by the massive gravity of it’s collapsing star.

“Yeah, princess?” Lance’s hands cinch around her waist, and Allura feels suddenly weightless in a way that has nothing to do with the grav drive being offline. They float. A hail of debris hits the observation deck window as the station spins through the blast radius, drawn in by the relentless pull of the dying star. The crack of something large against the window draws Lance’s focus, and Allura turns with him, watching the spider web of cracks grow out from the impact site. The breathless void of space is so very close to them now. Allura tamps down on the fear threatening to overwhelm her, focusing instead on the way Lance hasn’t let go of her since he found her. 

Allura pulls her helmet off. There’s no need for pretense now, not while the station shudders and jerks in its death knells, not while their comms fritz and crackle with the radiation and nothing else. Her hair floats in a cloud behind her. Lance tugs his own helmet off, letting it float out behind him. Allura reaches for him, taking him by the arm, and pulling him in.

“Kiss me,” she says. She watches Lance’s eyes dilate, feels the ghost of his breath on her lips, and leans up. Lance meets her halfway, his hands sliding up her back so that he can cradle her face in his palms. The kiss tastes like the recycled air of their flight suits until Allura opens beneath Lance’s mouth, and then it only tastes like him. He’s gentle with her, and Allura wants more, wants the bite of his teeth and the grip of his nails. She’s surprised by the spear of heat that goes through her. It pools, molten, at the base of her spine, and Allura arches against Lance, wishing they weren’t in armor, wishing she could feel him, here, in this place that will be their last stand. 

That thought makes her pull away with a shaky gasp and the sting of tears in her eyes. Allura blinks, trying to dispel them. Lance’s thumb smooths across the ridge of her cheekbone, his glove rough against her skin. Outside, another cruiser erupts in a towering pyre of flame.

“Allura,” Lance breathes, and presses a kiss to her forehead. The tears win at the soft press of his lips. 

“Oh, Lance,” Allura sobs, and he gathers her to his chest. 

 “God, Allura, please don’t cry.” Lance tilts her face up, fingers under her chin, and their eyes meet, blue on blue. In this light, with the fire outside, Lance’s look like a summer storm. 

“I’m sorry,” Allura says. Lance’s eyes widen and he shakes his head, once, tight. 

“No,” he says, voice a husk of emotion. “No.” 

“But this is my fault,” Allura insists, “if I hadn’t demanded--”   


“Stop it. It’s not. Allura,  _ please _ .” Lance’s hands are trembling against her skin. Allura bites back another sob, but fresh tears slip down her face. Through the blur in her own vision, Allura can see the shimmer of tears on Lance’s own eyelashes as he closes his eyes, dropping his chin to get out of her line of sight. 

 Something hits the station with enough force to jog it off its previous course, and the wreckage outside looms in the window. A piece of a ship hits the glass, and the spider web grows ever more delicate, ever more deadly. A shuddering groan emanates from somewhere below them, followed by the unmistakable pressure drop that signals a hull breach. Allura’s ears pop. Lance catches her gaze with his again, and this time she can see the pallor under his tan. 

 “It’s going to be okay,” he says, but Allura can hear the shake under his voice. 

“You don’t have to pretend for me,” Allura says, mirroring his hands with hers, pressing her palms to his cheeks, feeling the soft ends of his hair with her fingertips. 

“You deserve better than this,” Lance says, “the universe needs you more than it could ever need me.” His voice is soft. “I was going to show you earth,” he says, “Allura, I--” 

Allura beats him to the punch. She presses forward, capturing his mouth in hers. Lance’s surprise is her opening, and she licks into him, pushing against him, twining her arms around his neck. Lance groans, and buries his hands in the soft weight of her hair. His fingers tangle and pull, and Allura relishes the tingle in her scalp, the reminder that they are alive, that they were here. 

The scream of metal on metal should drive them apart, but Lance doesn’t let her go, and she opens her eyes instead, to find him looking at her. They break apart with a shaky breath, and Allura sees the glow of flames on Lance’s skin, and feels the heat of them against her back. “I love you,” she breathes, and the last thing she sees is Lance’s smile and his mouth forming the shape of her name. 


End file.
